We’re Both at Six Weeks

When you read all the articles and books about the postpartum period, the six week mark feels like this magical number. All of a sudden your body is healed–you can exercise, you can have sex, you’re apparently back to your old self. Of course, any new mom will tell you this is crazy talk.

We had a rough labor and between that, the pregnancy, and the treatments prior, my body became somewhat unrecognizable to me. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Getting to know a constantly changing body has allowed me to be more mindful of how I feel physically, what my limitations are, and to be better about honoring them. But, it has also been a long time since I’ve felt like “myself.”

The old me didn’t magically reappear when I woke up this morning. But, thinking about it, she’s definitely starting to. She’ll be forever changed, in some ways for the better, and maybe in some for the worse, which I’ll need to continue making friends with. I don’t feel fully healed physically, but I’ve been adding more walking to my daily routine and may begin a gentle walk back into yoga, which my body is desperately craving. I’ll wait for the real go ahead from my midwife next week. But, in the meantime, I’ll trust what my body tells me, which like my six week old son, is full of new changes and surprises every day.

Adjusting

I know it’s been a while since I’ve written. I guess you could say I’ve been adjusting. Adjusting to this growing life inside me. Adjusting to my changing body. Adjusting to what feels like a much slower-functioning brain. Adjusting to shifting responsibilities at the studio as I prepare for this little one. Adjusting to the discrepancies between my expectations for this time in my life and the reality.  In truth, the last few months have felt a bit like one big adjustment. And, I know this is just preparation for one of the biggest adjustment of all.

I’ve been thinking a lot about this concept of adjustment and how little room we really give ourselves to settle into a situation, be with what is truly there and find our place in it. I know I’m often very impatient with myself, setting high expectations and feeling frustration, doubt, and self-judgment when I fail to meet them in the way I’d hoped.

The funny thing is, when I think about it, the most fulfilling and meaningful release and realization occurs when I do let myself adjust. Take an example on the mat. One of my favorite poses- pigeon. When I first come to pigeon, my belly is usually tense, it’s hard for me to let my hips go and my shoulders are typically pretty hunched as they help my arms hold me up. But, as I hold the pose longer, and let my breath deepen, my stomach relaxes, I can slowly walk my hands out and let my shoulders release and my hips sink closer to the floor. The thing is, in my mind, pigeon is always a pose I’m going to give myself a few minutes in. There is an understanding with myself that the adjusting is part of the pose, so I make allowances for it and consequently, often experience a profound letting go, making it one of my favorite poses.

This is as opposed to something like Warrior II. Even though I often hold Warrior II for several breaths, I find that there is an expectation that I should find my alignment immediately, which of course, I rarely, if ever do. My hips need time to adjust and release. But, instead of being patient and enjoying the process, I usually feel a little frustrated and self-doubt at the immediate awkwardness and discomfort that is my early Warrior II.

So, what’s my point? We all have expectations for how we think life should be, both on and off the mat. Sometimes we are gentle with ourselves, we build in time and energy for adjusting and other times we are impatient and rigid. Something looks “easy” from the outside so we compare ourselves to others without really being with where we are.

Going through years of infertility, I viewed pregnancy as such a gift. It seemed like if I could just get to that second trimester, it would all be rainbows and butterflies. And, of course it is an amazing gift. I’m constantly in awe that this is my reality. I’m overwhelmed with joy and gratitude.  But, it has also been challenging physically, emotionally, and mentally. Each day requires a new adjustment, because each day is different.

What I realize now is that, the need to adjust is inevitable. It has always been inevitable. And, once this baby comes, it will certainly continue to be inevitable.  Suffering because of it is not. I can choose the juicy, rewarding, gratifying, releasing experience like that I find in pigeon or I can stick to expectations that have nothing to do with my reality, but only with my unfounded judgments of what should be of my awkward Warrior II’s. I think I’ll choose pigeon. And, maybe I’ll shift my Warrior II’s in the process :).

Grateful

Lately, I have been feeling very grateful. Grateful for this beautiful life, surrounded by such a special community, both near and far. Grateful for my family and friends for so much love, support and inspiration. Grateful for Allay and all the pieces that come with it. Grateful for a sense of peace and clarity that seemed to elude me for so long in the aftermath of my miscarriage. Grateful for the process. As we re-enter our fertility journey filled with intramuscular shots, unknowns and lots of waiting, I have been feeling strong, ready, and most of all, open. And for this, I have felt overwhelmingly grateful.

But, the last few days, I have been feeling a little off. A little more easily annoyed. A little more susceptible to mindless time wasting.  Basically, a little more anxious :). And, consequently, I have found myself being extremely judgmental of these feelings and my inability to hold on to that “good place.”

But, today something funny happened. I don’t know what made me do it, but all of a sudden, standing alone in my kitchen, I just said aloud, “I’m having a rough day. Yep, that’s where I am right now.” And, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

In almost every class that I teach, I talk about accepting what is, without judgment, without wishing it were different or that you could  hold on to it forever. But, just noticing what comes up and saying to yourself, “yep, that’s how that feels right now.” 

It’s one thing to do this on the mat, especially when someone is reminding you, but it’s another, very powerful thing to realize it is a part of you, it is part of how you look at and respond to life and it is something you can do for yourself. 

It makes sense that I’m anxious. This is hard. And, let’s be honest, shooting yourself up with hormones doesn’t necessarily put you in a better state of mind. But, it is what it is. It’s where I am right now. It won’t be this way forever. And, knowing this, I don’t have to waste time trying to make it different. In this moment, I accept. My practice is working.  And, for that I am grateful.

Do you find parts of your practice infiltrating your everyday life? How?

 

Finding Yoga Where You Least Expect It

As I continue to deal physically and mentally with everything that’s happened over the last year, I find myself discovering and rediscovering the magical practice of yoga, even in the most unexpected places! Lately, I’ve been reading a lot about the powerfulness of the breath. Sure, I know the breath is important, I mean I teach that over and over again all week long! But, in my own life, it’s not so easy to always tune-in, be aware and maintain a calm breath. 

This becomes even more difficult once the body and mind reach a profound state of stress, as I’ve realized mine has found as a consequence of the physical and emotional hardships of the recent past. As I’ve tried to return to breath work, practices that once felt easy and natural are more difficult and require much more focus and patience. 

For example, you may hear teachers talk about 1:2 breathing or letting the exhale be twice as long as the inhale. This is one of the best ways to relax the nervous system and take the body (and mind) out of fight or flight mode, which many of us, especially those of us high-anxiety individuals, reside in much of the time. Although once a cornerstone of my practice, as I’ve recently returned to focusing on this breath, I’ve found that I simply “run out” of air and my body becomes tense and stressed as I try to “push” those last counts out to double my inhale count. And, on the other side, I almost feel as though i can’t take enough air in on my inhale, so it begins to feel as though I’m hyperventilating.  Not so relaxing. 

Ironically, as I struggle with my breath work in my designated practice time, I’ve found that there is one place where it seems to happen naturally. I’ve taken up swimming as a cross-training practice for my half-marathon training. I’ve noticed that every time I climb out of the pool, I feel incredibly relaxed and clear-minded. When I started paying more attention, I realized that when swimming, particularly when doing the breaststroke, I was naturally doing a 1:2 breath! I would pop my head up for a quick inhale, and then, underwater, as I completed my stroke, would release a long, full exhale through my nose! The combination of physical exercise and breath work left me with that relaxed state of mind and body I was working so hard to find when I was “trying” to do yoga!

I realized that while it’s important to continue making time for “designated” practice, this is not the only place that yoga occurs. It is even more important to honor your own version of your yoga practice and to find it, perhaps in unexpected ways, in the places that make sense for you in this particular moment in your life. 

You Are Me, And I Am You

“You are me, and I am you. Isn’t obvious that we “inter-care”? You cultivate the flower in yourself, so that I will be beautiful. I transform the garbage in myself, so that you will not have to suffer. I support you, you support me. I am in this world to offer you peace and joy. You are in this world to bring joy and peace.”

– Thich nhat Hanh

A good friend read this quote at the end of a wonderful yoga class last week. I found these words very powerful. It can be so easy to get caught up in our own roller coaster. When good things happen to us, life is good. When bad things happen, life is hard. But, if we can look at the world in this way, as connected beings, working together to better all of our lives, it becomes easier to step off the ride and walk along with peace, joy, and gratitude in our hearts.

It Turns Out, You Don’t Have To Try So Hard!

Yesterday, a dear friend and wonderful Reiki practitioner, Marisa, led me through my first Reiki session. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I was excited. As we began our session, I immediately began to think about all of the things I needed to do when we were finished. I had e-mails to write. I had classes to organize. I was hungry. My thoughts were everywhere. Typically, during a session where the goal is to relax, I begin to feel guilty about my mind wandering and my lack of presence. This happens during yoga. This happens during meditation. This apparently happens during Reiki.

As I was having judgmental thoughts about my thoughts, however, I began to notice that things were happening in my body. My face grew very warm. The muscles around my eyes began to relax. My body began to feel almost abuzz. Right in the middle of consciously thinking about being “bad” at Reiki, I realized I was doing it! It didn’t matter whether I was “good” or “bad” at it. I was doing it. And, that’s all that mattered.

It can be difficult to allow ourselves to be human, to acknowledge that the practice of self-care, of slowing down, of just being is actually HARD. But, there’s no such thing as doing it perfectly. There’s only doing it. As long as we keep showing up, it happens. So, next time you’re on your mat and you find yourself having judgmental thoughts about your thoughts or feel that you’re simply “not good” at the practice, remind yourself that you’re here. That’s the practice. It’s happening. You’re human. And, you don’t need to try so hard to be anywhere else, but where you are.

Back to School, Back to Blog

I used to love back to school time. New year, new class, new possibilities. And, let’s not forget the most important thing: new school supplies! As I got older, especially after transitioning out of classwork, I found it less and less exciting. It was something other people participated in, something I understood about, but just didn’t do anymore. I seemed to be in that funny, murky area between childhood and parenthood, in which times like “back to school” seemed irrelevant somehow. But, for the first time in a long while, I feel like I’m part of it. I may not be heading back to school (in fact, ironically, I’m probably the furthest from school I’ve been in my whole life!) but this September, it really feels like a new year. Allay just celebrated its one year anniversary, my life is full of new classes, thanks to our fabulous fall schedule, and I haven’t felt this open to the possibilities in a very long time. This year, I am excited. This year, I am participating.

It’s been a while since I’ve written. It’s not because I haven’t cared, I just didn’t know how to authentically write about what I was going through. But, it’s a new year, and I’m ready to try. While, on one hand, this has been such a special year, filled with so many joys, it has also been the hardest of my life, filled with loss, disappointment, and sadness. As may be obvious from my previous posts on this blog, I strive to find the lessons and the room for growth in each experience. And, boy has this year provided me lessons and opportunities for growth!

As many may know, we have been struggling with infertility. I have spent the greater part of the last two years, especially this past year, undergoing test after test, procedure after procedure in hopes of getting pregnant. I’ve changed my diet, done acupuncture, yoga for fertility, fertility-focused massage, clomid, IUI’s and IVF. We’ve had two pregnancies and two miscarriages. The first occurred just before the holidays this past winter. Literally days before we were scheduled to begin our first IVF cycle, we found out we had conceived on our own. “It was meant to be,” we said. Just when we thought we’d have to undergo the worst, the best gift arrived. Sadly, the pregnancy was not meant to be. And, more than that, the doctors were worried it was in fact ectopic, the treatment for which put our babymaking dreams on hold for months. The second occurred just weeks ago. Our IVF cycle resulted in a positive pregnancy test. My betas rose steadily and our first ultrasound appeared textbook. We found out the baby was due on March 28, 2013, my 30th birthday. “It was meant to be,” we said. We went through the worst and it was worth it because we have the greatest gift. Sadly, at eight weeks we found out the pregnancy was no longer viable.

It has been a hard year. But, it has been an important one. Our experiences this year have taught me things I may not have learned any other way. They forced me to face and accept what I can and cannot control. They brought out some of my weaknesses, but moreso, they allowed me to really see and appreciate my strengths. They helped me build an incredibly understanding and supportive community, founded on total openness and acceptance. And, most of all, they taught me how to be mindfully present, taking life one day at a time.

And so, here I am. New Year. New Classes. New Perspective. New Possibilities. I guess you could say that I am still caught in that funny, murky area between childhood and parenthood. Except, those are no longer my parameters. Mine are undefined. I’m finally figuring them out as I go along. I may not be heading back to school. I may not be preparing a child to head back to school. But, this year, perhaps more than ever, I am part of it. I am excited. I am participating. I have no idea what lies ahead for us (or for this blog!). But, I do know that, with the lessons I’ve learned this year, I am open to the possibilities.